The Hunter of Notre Dame
by WhisperedMemories
Summary: Okay, weird idea written on a friend's request. Just putting this out here to see if anyone is interested, crossover between Supernatural and the Hunchback of Notre Dame. I found some surprising parallels.
1. Prologue

_Prologues_

It's snowing, dark as it always is during winter in Paris. The canal is quiet, the only sound a small gondola moving through the water. Inside is a small family and a fifth man piloting the vessel. They are a mother and father, a little boy and a baby.

The boat shifts suddenly and the baby cries. And does not stop.

"Shut it up will you?" says the pilot.

"We'll be spotted!" says the father. The mother turns to the baby and murmurs softly.

"Hush little one!" she says as they come to the landing. But it is too late.

"Four guilders for safe passage into Paris!"

Before the father, John, could give him the hefty sum, his wife, Mary let out a small cry of terror next to him.

"Judge Zachariah," he whispered in fear, clutching his older son to him and pushing his wife behind him. The pilot laughed and came forward before them.

"I found them, sir, the Winchesters!"

Zachariah's face curdled into a sour smile. "Bring them to the Palace of Justice."

John raced to think. They didn't know of Sam yet, they couldn't. He turned to Mary, intending to tell her to run…

"You there, what are you hiding?" said one of the guards, a lower-ranking angel.

"Stolen goods no doubt," cackled Zachariah. "Take them from her."

John held his son Dean close and looked at Mary in desperation. Her eyes were wide, like a doe about to be shot. Don't do it. She glanced at him and back at the approaching angel, and then towards the opening they had left.

"No Mary," whispered John.

She ran.

Zachariah snapped his horse's reins and took off after her.

"Mommy no!" cried Dean, reaching after her. John hushed him and reached into his coat for his knife while setting his son down. There were only two guards left with them.

"Dean, run," he said. Dean hesistated, but scurried away when his father shoved him.

"Stop!" ordered one of the angels, but John wielded the silvery blade with astonishing efficiency, killing both the guardsmen. Wiping the blood from the blade, he looked longingly towards the place where Mary had disappeared to. He wished to go after her, to protect her-

"Daddy," whispered Dean softly and John saw him shivering as the snow fell. His son needed him and he went over to stand beside him.

"C'mon Dean. We're going to help your mother."

They ran.

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Mary could hear the Judge's horse galloping behind her and inside she knew it was impossible to escape. In her arms though, was her son, her precious child Sam. She knew what he was and she knew what they would do to him if he was discovered.

She ran.

Up narrow stairways, through back-alleys, over a wrought-iron gate but she could only hear Judge Zachariah getting closer as she fled through the snow-covered streets.

Suddenly, the marble steps of Notre Dame appeared before her and she gained a burst of desperate energy as she sprinted across the plaza and up to the great oak doors.

"Sanctuary!" she cried, pounding on the doors. "Please give us sanctuary!"

No answer and Zachariah was bearing down on her. Mary looked towards the sky, pleading silently with God as she clutched Sam to her chest.

"Watch over my boys," she mouthed and then gasped when Zachariah ripped Sam from her arms. She fell back with a jarring thud.

All noise faded and she was left with the image of her infant son dangling from the hands of a murderous man.

And then she saw nothing.

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Zachariah triumphantly held the bundle aloft. No doubt it contained rare protective charms. Doubt that turned into surprise when the bundle moved. He moved it closer to him and peered inside the blanket.

"A baby?" he exclaimed, looking down in astonishment at a little boy with a curly mop of hair. Then he remembered the prophecy of Dean and Sam Winchester. "No, a monster!"

He looked around desperately. This child must die! His eyes fell upon a well across the plaza and hope flared through him. Perhaps he could be rid of the Boy King! He guided his horse over to the well and ignored the looks of quiet disbelief on his guards' faces.

"STOP!"

He turned and there was the archdeacon, Robert Singer, his hand held aloft. Zachariah frowned.

"This is a creature of an unholy union; I'm sending it back to Hell, where it belongs."

"See the innocent blood you have spilled on the steps of Notre Dame!" he cried accusingly, pointing a finger at him.

"I am guiltless, she ran, I pursued."

"Now you would add this child's blood to your guilt on the steps of Notre Dame?"

Zachariah snorted. "My conscious is clear."

"You can lie to yourself and your minions," said Robert darkly "And you can claim you haven't a qualm, but you can never run nor hide what you've done from the eyes of Notre Dame."

And then Zachariah remembered just who exactly he worked for and how he wanted this to end. He felt a twinge of fear in his heart, because his boss wasn't exactly the forgiving type. He rather preferred unforgiving justice, usually with a smiting hand.

"What must I do?" he asked the man. Clearly he knew a thing or two about these types of things.

"Care for it, idjit."

"Care for it?" he cried, outraged. Then he calmed. "Very well. He can live here."

"Here? Where?"

"Somewhere where no one else will see. The Bell Tower perhaps. Who knows, God works in mysterious ways. Maybe he'll be of use to me one day."

He gave the child to the Archdeacon and turned away. "Keep him out of sight."

And he was gone, galloping into the night. Robert looked down upon the baby, who hadn't made a sound quite oddly, and gave him a tentative smile.

"Let's get you inside…well, now, you don't even have a name. We can work that out later."

And he went inside, shutting the huge wooden door after carefully laying Mary's body on the steps for the undertaker. He blessed her and set the baby inside before coming back with a rug to put over her body. He closed her eyes and went inside, intent on caring for his new charge.

The undertaker wouldn't get the chance, for John and Dean arrived just after the door was closed. John let out a cry of despair, followed by Dean's sorrowful tears. They went over to her body and John didn't look past the blood staining he clothes and the snow around her.

"Daddy, where's Sam?" asked Dean, looking for his brother. John didn't want to think of what had become of his son.

"He's in a better place Dean. Now come," he said, picking up Mary's body.

"We have work to do."

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Okaay, I hope this isn't weird or anything. I got the Idea from a friend of mine, who mentioned it randomly.

Review and tell me if it's too weird to go on with!


	2. Un

_UN_

Samuel crept softly through the maze of beams and rope that made up his home. Dozens of gray pidgeons scattered around him as he made his way towards the balcony, from which you could see the whole of Paris, but stopped at a nest in one of the Gargoyle's mouths.

"Are you ready?" he asked the tiny fledgling in it. He had watched this young bird grow from an egg into the fluffy baby before him. The bird acknowledged him with a chirp and leapt out of his nest and into Samuel's hand. Samuel lifted him high and the fledgling leapt and took to the air, gliding over the rooftops.

Samuel sighed. He had such a strong desire to leave, to run across the ground at full speed. But he knew it was not safe, Zachariah said so. He had learned long ago, the hard way, that Zachariah was always right. He had a thick ropey burn scar across his face to prove it.

"Ugh, I thought he'd never leave!" raged Balthazar, the gargoyle who the bird had been nesting in. "I'll be spitting feathers for a week!"

Sam smiled as the other gargoyles awoke to retaliate.

"Well, that's what you get for sleeping with your mouth open!" said Rufus.

"Ha, ha, go scare a nun you bloody killjoy!" said Balthazar, sidling up to Samuel to no doubt whisper another insult.

"Hey Sam," he said, "What's going on? A fight? Maybe…a flight?"

"A festival you dumbass!" said Rufus.

"Oh, the feast of fools?" said Balthazar, smiling broadly. Figures, he was the king of them.

"It _is _a treat to watch those gullible idiots make fools of themselves," said Rufus. Balthazar shoved him way and rubbed his hands together.

"Nothin' like balcony seats, eh Sam?"

"Yeah," answered Sam dejectedly, still staring longingly after the tiny bird. "_Watching._"

He turned away and Balthazar hopped to the edge of the railing, his stone wings fluttering. "Oooh, a mime!" he said, beginning to hock a glob of spit towards the poor performer before Rufus covered his mouth.

"That's nasty and you know it! Besides, Sam ain't doing so well today!"

"Hey, what gives?"

"Ain't you gonna watch the parade?"

"What gives?" said Balthazar, looking at the other gargoyle.

"Don' know. Maybe he's sick?"

"Yeah right!" said a third voice. Both of them looked up as Ellen hopped over. "If listening to you two for twenty years hasn't made him sick, nothing will!"

"But the kid's always watched the festival!" protested Rufus.

"Well yeah, but what fun is it if you can never go-GET OFF OF ME YA BUZZARDS!" she hollered, waving her arms as the pigeons tried to land on her. "I ain't that ugly!"

Samuel could faintly hear their bickering from where he was climbing the stairs, but unlike other days, it didn't make him smile. He was feeling suffocated among the bells and dusty air of the Bell Tower. The Archdeacon, whom he affectionately called Bobby, hadn't come to see him all week and he was aching for human contact. He went to where he had crafted a model of Paris and studied it carefully. He then sighed and rested his head on the mock streets.

"Sam, what's wrong? You wanna talk to ol' Ellen about it?" asked the female gargoyle.

"I don't want to watch the festival, okay? Leave me alone," he spat, standing up and moving away. The other gargoyles drew back, but refused to give up on him.

"You could always go there," suggested Ellen softly. "You ever thought of that?"

"Of course I have, but do you really think Zachariah would let me go?" he said, his voice sharp with bitterness.

"Oh quit beatin' around the Bell Tower!" said Balthazar, hopping onto the table. "What do we gotta' do to get you to go?"

"Yep! As your friends and most humble guardians," said Rufus, with more than a hint of sarcasm, "We think you should go out and party!"

"Me?"

"No, the Pope," said Balthazar rolling his eyes. "Of course you, you twit!"

"For once, listen to them Sam," said Ellen. "Life isn't a spectator sport. If you sit around spectating, you're going to watch your life go by!"

"Thanks for the pep talk guys, but yet again, you're forgetting a big fact."

"Yeah?" said Balthazar.

"Oh I don't know, how about my goddamn slave master Zachariah?"

"Oh yeah," they said collectively and dejectedly.

"Well, technically, he only said you could never leave the bell tower, not forever," said Rufus.

"You know what he meant," said Samuel. "And he hates the Feast of Fools. He'd be furious if I tried to leave."

"Who says you've gotta ask?" said Balthazar.

"Yeah!" said Ellen. "It's only one afternoon, you can sneak back in!"

"He'll never know you were gone!"

"-If I got caught?"

"Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission," said Rufus. "Right?"

"He'll see me! I'm kind of hard to miss," said Samuel motioning to his gargantuan height and mop of curly brown hair.

"Wear a disguise!" said Balthazar. "What he doesn't know won't hurt you!"

"What he said!" agreed Rufus.

"Nobody wants to be trapped up here forever," said Ellen. "Go one Sam, have fun for once."

"Fine, I'll go-!"

"Hello Samuel."

He froze, turning to see Zachariah. Balthazar, Ellen and Rufus froze and became lifeless once more.

"Hello Master," he answered obediently, backing away from the judge. Samuel was tall, but not yet the height of Zachariah. Soon, though, soon.

"Who were you talking to?"

"My-uh-friends."

Zachariah tapped Rufus' still head and snorted. "I see. And what, may I remind you, are your friends made of Samuel?"

"S-stone."

"Can stone talk?"

"No."

"That's right. You're getting to be smart…finally. Now, set up the table, I want lunch before I talk with you."

Samuel curled his nose but set about putting two plates and goblets on the table. Zachariah produced a book from his robes and opened to a page somewhere between the middle and the middle of the end.

"Shall we review your enochian today?"

"Yes, of course," replied Sam softly.

"Very well. ?"

"Abomination."

" ?"

"Blasphemy."

" ?"

"Contrition."

"?"

"Damnation."

"?"

"Eternal Damnation."

"Good. ?"

"?"

"Festi-I mean uh-"

But it was too late, Zachariah had heard and his face had turned red with annoyance. "Excuse me?"

"F-f-Forgiveness!"

"You said _festival,_" Zachariah reputed, snapping the book closed.

"No!" said Sam, desperate to save his chance of seeing the outside world.

"You're going to ask me if you can go, aren't you?"

"But you go every year!"

"I'm a public official! I must go, and just because I must doesn't mean I enjoy it!" said Zachariah, heading down the stairs with Sam chasing after him. "Thieves and cutpurses! The dregs of humankind mix together at these gatherings."

They were outside now, on the pathway connecting the two towers of Notre Dame. The bright sunlight hurt Samuel's eyes and he shielded them as he tried pleading with the judge.

"I'm sorry I displeased you, master."

"Samuel, why don't you understand? When your heartless mother abandoned you, others would have drowned you. You show your thanks by upsetting me?"

Samuel's hopes were dashed and he looked away. "I'm sorry sir."

"Dear boy, you don't know what it's like out there, the world is cruel."

'I bet,' Samuel thought, looking at the cruel man beside him. Zachariah sighed and turned to him.

"I don't want to hear anything else about this."

"Yes master."

He turned and left, his long robes sweeping along behind him.

"That doesn't mean you'll see it," murmured Sam. He was going to go to that festival, like it or not.

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Whew! I never knew how much work went into doing dialogue for a movie!

Please review and tell me if I need to stop this beast before I do more work!


	3. Deux

_Deux_

Castiel was lost. He and his faithful horse, Annael, had been walking in circles for hours now. He sighed once, twice and snorted in distaste before throwing his useless map away.

"You leave for a couple of decades and they change everything!" he lamented to Annael. She snorted in agreement and Castiel decided to keep walking when a couple of street guards walked past.

"Excuse me, gentlemen, I'm looking for the Palace of Justice would you-well, assbutts," he muttered. Annael snorted behind him, tossing her fiery red mane in amusement.

"Yes, very funny Anna."

But he didn't say anything else because as he walked, he came upon a small hunter troupe performing on a street corner.

"Mumma look!"

"Keep away dear! They're hunters, they'll slit your throat and rob you blind!"

But Castiel drew closer, drawn not by the lovely young blonde woman dancing and tapping a tambourine, but because of the man playing the flute beside her. He was a dashingly handsome man, with fine dirty blonde hair and aristocratic features, but it was his piercing green eyes that winked at Castiel that held his attention. Beside him a jet-black goat pranced with the girl in time to his tune. Castiel smiled and tossed a few coins into the hat waiting on the ground.

The girl nodded at him, as did the man, but before Castiel could say anything, a whistle sounded and the hunters immediately stopped what they were doing and scattered. He could see why, as the two guards he had seen early were barreling down the street for them. The girl had gotten away, but the man had come back for the hat and Castiel knew he would be caught.

"Alright hunter, where'd you get the money?" asked the taller mustachioed one. Dean glared up at the man from where he was collecting the spilt coins.

"I earned it, you jackasses!"

"Hunters don't earn money!"

"They steal it!" chimed in the shorter guard, who grabbed the man's arm and twisted it behind his back. Clearly this was a mistake.

"You'd know about stealing, now wouldn't ya fatty?" laughed the man, gabbing him in the gut and pulling back the hat that the taller man was trying to take. "That's mine thank you very much!"

And quick as lighting, his hand flashed out and clocked the man in the face, sending him stumbling. The goat joined in, butting at the guards' legs and bowling the two men over.

"Good job Impala!" said the man, grabbing the hat and running. Castiel let him pass, but pulled Annael forward to block the two men, one of which fell into a puddle behind her.

"Anna, sit!" and the roan horse did, square on the taller man, causing the townspeople around them to chuckle.

"I do apologize," said Castiel, "Bad horse! She's quite rebellious you know, I can't take her anywhere!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Castiel saw the man and his goat laughing behind a wall before disappearing around the corner.

"Get this thing off of me!"

"I'll teach you a lesson peasant!" said the shorter man, pulling his dagger. Castiel rolled his eyes and drew back his cape, revealing his golden hued armor and magnificent sword hanging from his belt.

"Pardon?"

The look on the man's face was quite amusing and Castiel smirked as he drew his sword.

"Oh, uh, Captain, I apologize. At your service sir!"

Castiel sheathed his sword and steered Annael off the taller man. "I know my presence is much to take in, but the Palace of Justice-?"

They scurried to clear a path before him and Castiel led a smug Annael behind them. He looked around briefly, searching for the man with the snapping green eyes, but to no avail. There was, however, a beggar sitting on the street and he gathered up the coins left behind by the hunters and dropped it into their hat.

What he didn't see was the amazed look the hunter from before gave him as he walked towards the ominous fortress in the distance.

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Castiel opened the door to the dungeons, where Zachariah was located according to a guard, and curled his nose at the stench of filthy hay, blood and the undeniable atmosphere of despair.

"Ah, Captain Castiel, I'm glad to see that you've made it!"

Castiel kept a stern face. Carefully looking Zachariah over, he silently swore that if this man wasn't worth leaving the war, then he'd be more than upset.

"Here for duty, as ordered, sir," replied, staring straight ahead as Zachariah circled him, no doubt judging his power for himself.

"Your service record is flawless Captain; I will expect nothing but the best from a soldier of your caliber."

"And you will have it, sir."

"Yes, well you know, my last captain of the guard wasn't on par…"

Right on cue, an agonized scream sounded from down the hallway after an accompanying whip crack.

"Well, I'm sure you'll whip my men into shape," he said, laughing at his pun. Castiel felt sick inside, but orders were orders and who was he to deny them? Zachariah walked down the hall ahead of him and motioned for him to follow.

"Come now, let us talk," he said, leading him out onto an open-aired walkway high above the city streets. "You have come to aide Paris in her darkest hour Castiel."

"Sir?"

"Look, down below," said Zachariah, motioning towards a commotion below. It was the same group of hunters from before. "Hunters live on the fringes of society; their heathen ways inflame humankind's lowest instincts. They must be stopped."

Castiel felt angry disbelief rise up in his chest. "I was summoned from the war to deal with common hunters?" he snarled.

"The real war, may I remind you Castiel, has to do with those _common hunters_, remember?" hissed Zachariah. Again the Prophecy of the End was interfering with Castiel's job and he fell silent.

"For twenty years I've been getting rid of them one by one, and once I came close to obtain the hunters spoken of by our superiors, but I have lost the elder one to the hunter infestation. He hides among them, stealing and corrupting his soul with their petty mission against the supernatural."

"What are we going to do about it, sir?" Castiel ground out, his blue eyes flaring angrily.

"I believe they have a safe haven within the city, their so-called Court of Miracles. And we, my dear Captain, are going to destroy them," Zachariah said, slamming his hand onto the railing and crushing it beneath the power of his hand. Power barely contained within the confines of his vessel.

"You make a vivid point, sir" said Castiel. He could feel his own grace fluttering within his human disguise. How little mortals knew of the world around them. Except a select few and the hunters, not one of the humans knew the majority of the upper class, monarchs and government officials were angels hiding amongst them.

"I like you Castiel. Shall we?" he said, gesturing below where a festival seemed to be taking place. Castiel glanced down with apprehension. He hadn't been to festivities in a long, long time.

"Have you ever attended one of their little blasphemous celebrations?" asked Zachariah.

"Not for many years, no."

"Then this should be quite an education, come along."

Castiel followed with a sardonic smirk on his face.

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Across the city, making his way down the towers was Samuel. He had slipped a ratty old cloak on before expertly navigating the colossal cathedral down to the lowest level of arches where he could observe the people.

So many smells! Meat roasting on spits, sweet pastries and the bread! Warm, cinnamon laden, raisin-filled bread! And the people! So many hair-colors, heights, and faces. Ugly, beautiful, fat, thin and in-between! It was so different from looking at them from afar.

Samuel crept closer, curious to see what all the commotion was about, swinging onto a rope and dangling above the crowd. He should have known better, however, because it snapped under his weight and he was swung to the front of the crowd where a brightly dressed entertainer was leading the parade.

"Come one, come all, to the festival of fools!" he sang out, sliding from beneath the robes of those leading the procession and causing Samuel to stumble back in surprise, shielding his scarred face from him. He was blocked by the crowd, however, and forced to observe the spectacle from the front of the throngs of people.

A folk tune was struck up and the entertainer, whom he heard called Gabriel by one of the townsfolk, began to sing and was joined by those behind him. They had shed their drab black robes to reveal outlandish costumes and before Samuel could escape them, Gabriel hooked his arm in his and swung him around twice before letting him go.

Samuel ran off into the crowd, but Gabriel was persistent, following him and refusing to let him stay out of sight. He ran through stalls, tents and crowded side-streets, but he was pursued by dancing women, people in terrifying yet hilarious masks and the ever present Gabriel, until he tripped and fell into a voluminous changing-room tent.

"Aiiee!" a woman screamed as he was caught on a curtain and fell down. It was quickly followed by another person, a man.

"You alright kid?"

The curtain was lifted off him and Samuel looked up to see a slight blonde girl, probably a few years younger than him and a tall, darker blonde man staring down at him with concern.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to-!" he said, crawling back from them.

"Are you hurt?" asked the girl.

"Here, let's see," said the man, drawing back his hood.

"NO!" said Samuel. They would see his scar, they would tell Zachariah!

"You look fine to me," said the man. Samuel nodded and scurried to his feet as he left.

"Be more careful next time!" hollered the man after him.

"I will!" he said hurriedly, sprinting away as fast as he could. Alas, he was once more dragged into the festivities, his face now exposed and a woman whirling him around in a dance. Why didn't he just stay in the tower?

Then he saw what he could only hope was some cruel trick: Zachariah's carriage making its way through the crowd accompanied by an impressive looking Captain and guardsmen. Could his day get any worse?

"And now, presenting the lovely Joanna and her amazing master of illusions, Dean!" announced Gabriel, throwing his hand down with a flash of red smoke.

It revealed the blonde girl from before, scantily clad in a beautiful, red silk outfit and a scarf and Dean, playing his flute as he danced a simple jig around her. The crowed oohed and awed at them as smoke poured from the stage around them and streamers flew from Dean's sleeves as he played.

"Look at that disgusting display!" he heard Zachariah say.

"As you wish," said the guard in golden armor, which Samuel amusingly noticed was not trained on the woman, but the man who was playing a raunchy tune now accompanied by an accordion. He smiled and watched the show as the woman, Joanna, danced around Zachariah, accompanied by Dean who gave to risqué shakes of his own towards the judge while the crowd went wild.

Joanna danced and Dean played his hypnotizing music while she pulled props from the crowd, including a spear that she swung around, landing in a disheveled, but attractive, heap at the bottom of as the music ended. Hundreds of coins were tossed forward, mainly by the townsmen and one by the guard captain, as Gabriel once again took the stage.

"And now, the moment you've been waiting for! Now we crown the king of fools!"

A roar went up in the crowd, Samuel included, until he realized that it was him who was being pulled on stage.

_Right in front of Zachariah._

Other men were pulled up, their masks being torn off one by one as the crowd booed them away.

'No,' thought Samuel. 'They think the scar is a mask!'

He tried to run, but Gabriel held him back with a smile. He was doomed. Joanna finally reached him and pulled the hood back, but her face quickly became one of regret when she realized that he wasn't wearing a mask.

"Gabe, maybe-"she said, but the entertainer stopped her as the crowd gasped in horror.

"It's the monster bell-ringer!" cried one man.

"He's horrible!" said a woman. Samuel could practically hear Zachariah's anger boil over behind him.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please! You asked for the biggest fool in Paris, you got him!" said Gabriel, placing a jester's crown upon Samuel's head, to his horror. The townspeople suddenly cheered and rushed on stage to crowd around him.

He was loaded onto a litter and paraded around as they cried out "All hail the king of fools!"

No, no, no! He had only wanted to see life as it was below, not be tormented for what he was! Despair gripped him as he was brought to a platform where every danced around him. He smiled for a moment, realizing they weren't afraid of him temporarily.

Then a knife flew by his ear and everyone gasped. The guards, drunk from the day's revels roared with laughter. "Now tha's an ugly monster!"

The crowd jeered and suddenly rotten food was being thrown at him and he couldn't escape. Some mean-spirited soul had removed the ladder to the platform and Samuel began to panic. In his desperation, he cried out.

"Master! Help me!"

But Zachariah only looked on, rage upon his face. The guard beside him lunged forward on his horse.

"Sir, permission to stop this cruelty!"

"In a moment captain, a lesson needs to be learned," said Zachariah, loud enough for Samuel to hear. His face fell when the captain backed down, but suddenly the crowd fell silent and he looked up from where he had crouched down.

It was the man from earlier, Dean. The girl tried to follow him up the replaced ladder, but he motioned her back. Samuel backed away. Was he going to hurt him too?

No, because the man took the short cape from around his shoulders and placed it over his head.

"I'm sorry," said Dean, "It wasn't supposed to be like this."

"You! Wretched Hunter, get down at once!" roared Zachariah from his platform.

"No offense, sir," snarled Dean "But you can kiss my ass until I free this poor bastard!"

"I forbid it!"

Dean frowned and pulled a dagger, aiming for the judge, but Samuel reached out and put a hand on his arm. The hunter looked down at him in surprise. Samuel just shook his head and looked down.

"How dare you?" said Zachariah, pointing his finger at Dean.

"Oh shut up with your holier than thou shit! You treat him the same way you treat everybody, like we're lower than the dirt on your shoes! What about Free Will you bastard?"

"SILENCE!"

"FREE WILL!"

The crowd gasped and Dean turned to help Samuel up.

"You will pay for this dearly, Hunter!"

"Then I guess we crowned the wrong fool, didn't we?" said Dean, smirking and tossing the jester crown at Zachariah's feet.

"Castiel, arrest him," snarled the judge. Castiel hesitated only for the briefest of seconds before snapping his fingers and motioning for the other guardsmen to approach Dean.

"Oh boy, ten of you and one of me, how is that fair?" said Dean, tugging on his collar like he was sweating with terror. Then he threw out his hand and disappeared in a flash of red-smoke.

"Witchcraft!" said Zachariah, if only to get the crowd in a frenzy.

"Hey, assholes, over here!" said Dean, leaning against a table of food. "Tell me, who does this remind you of?" he said, gesturing to the pig. The crowd laughed while Zachariah's face only grew redder.

"Get him!" cried a guard, but Dean leapt into the crowd, followed by his faithful Impala, where they were bundled away from the guards by the townspeople.

Unfortunately, there were more guards, but Dean leapt onto a pole, swung around it and took them out at once. He landed neatly and bowed before more angel guards appeared on horses to chase them down. Clearly Dean had a habit of doing this, because in less than thirty seconds, he had the riders either unconscious, on the ground or their horses were running wild. In fact, pair of riders had somehow ended up with a pole in their hands and were galloping after Dean….

And straight into Zachariah's pavilion, sweeping the judge up with them as their horses panicked; and Dean, being ever so clever with weapons as he was, swept up one of their helmets and took out three more guards by throwing it like a Frisbee. It whistled through the air and thudded into the wooden beam behind Castiel, who then looked in wonderment at the hunter.

"Wow," he simply said total admiration on his face. Dean was then promptly swept up by two stilt walkers and presented with fanfare atop another platform before disappearing beneath a blanket.

Samuel's amusement ended then as Zachariah, pulling himself out of the wrecked pavilion, turned and looked at him with a look of utter rage on his face. He leapt onto his massive black charger and motioned Castiel over.

"Find that hunter! I want him alive!"

"Yes sir. Seal off all the exits!"

Zachariah then rode up to where Samuel stood on the platform, clutching his tattered cloak around him, and stared him down.

"I'm sorry master, I will never disobey you again," said Samuel, looking away. Zachariah snorted and turned away and Samuel leapt off the platform and sprinted towards the cathedral as rain poured around him, washing away his hope as puddles formed around him.

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Okay, this movie is a lot sadder now that I'm older.

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	4. Trois

_Trois_

Dean felt terrible for the boy on the platform. They boy with green eyes so akin to his own…

But that was impossible. His brother had died twenty years ago along with his mother. That bastard Zachariah had seen to that. But as he wrapped a disgusting cloak around himself, perching Impala on his back to give him a hunch, he got an idea (no pun intended).

They couldn't catch him if he claimed sanctuary now could they?

He shuffled across the plaza in his new disguise, relief flooding through him when he made it through the door, unawares of the figure of the guard captain watching suspiciously from a distance. Inside though, Dean took off the filthy rag and stared up in wonder at the monstrously huge church.

Soft blue light streamed in through the windows from hundreds of feet above and glimmered off the black and white marble floor as he stepped softly down the aisle. The candles lit the shadows, throwing off warmth as well and Impala trotted beside him, equally fascinated by the beauty of the church. Too bad for the Captain creeping up behind him that it wasn't enough to distract him from danger. Just as the angel was about to lay a hand on his shoulder, Dean spun around unsheathing the angel's sword and throwing him to the ground.

"You!" he said accusingly, pointing the blade at the angel's throat.

"Easy, easy!" said the soldier, backing away. "I just got better from a stab wound last week!"

"Oh yeah, you look like you could use another," snarled Dean pressing the sword closer to his face.

"Just give me a chance to apologize-"

"For what-"

And Dean was knocked dead on his ass and the angel stood over him with his blade back in his hand.

"That for instance."

"You sneaky sonofa-"

"I do not think God would appreciate you swearing in a church," said the guard.

"Har, har, angel boy," said Dean.

"I'm Captain of the Guard."

"Tell me Captain, are you always this polite," said Dean, swing a candle holder around. It met Castiel's blade with a loud 'clang!' "Or is it just my dashing good looks?"

They fought for a few moments, Castiel clearly amused by Dean's efforts.

"Amazing, you almost fight as well as an angel."

"Funny, I would have said the same thing, except I'm human and kicking your ass!" said Dean, swinging the tall candelabra around and clocking Castiel in the face with it. He flinched when he heard his vessel's nose crack and felt blood run down his chin.

"That's a little unnecessary, isn't it?"

Then he was promptly head butted by Impala.

"OOF!...didn't know you had a goat."

"She don't like soldiers very much," said Dean, a hint of pride in his voice. "Do ya baby?"

An irritated bleat was his confirmed reply. Castiel's face became a sardonic blank. He then tilted his head quizzically.

"Ahem. I was unaware that it was custom to head butt before introductions, but I will have to make do. I'm Castiel, angel of the Lord."

Dean looked over at Impala who snuffled impudently. He rolled his eyes.

"You are?"

"Is this an interrogation?"

"I believe the term is still introduction, is it not?" said Castiel. The smartass.

"Not arresting me eh?"

"I am not permitted to inside the walls of a church."

"Huh. Not like the other bastards eh? Fine, I'm Dean."

Castiel froze. "Dean Winchester?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?" asked Dean, instantly suspicious.

"I, uh, heard about you from the other guards. They said you're quite a troublemaker."

"I do aim to please."

Castiel smiled and heard Impala snort again. Dean chuckled and Castiel decided he liked that sound, now if only…

"Good work Captain, seize him!"

They both turned and Dean was filled with dread when he saw that it was Judge Zachariah. Castiel turned to him.

"Claim sanctuary!" he hissed. Dean glared up at him.

"You slimy, two-faced-"

"Say it!"

But he would not and Castiel turned, his face a barely managed neutral, to face Zachariah.

"I'm sorry sir, he claimed sanctuary."

"Then drag him out-"

"Oh I don't think so!" rang out a new voice. Dean turned and saw the Archdeacon marching towards them to face Zachariah. "Not in this church! Don't worry boy, Judge over there learned a long time ago to respect the Church, didn't you feathers?"

Zachariah's face grew more thunderous, if that was even possible, but turned around and left. Unknown to the others, to hide behind a pillar while Castiel was shoved away by Robert Singer. Impala followed, butting his backside.

"I'm going, I'm going!" said Castiel. Dean smirked until his arm was twisted behind his back by Zachariah.

"Don't think I don't know who you are, hunter boy. And I will get you and when I do, you're going to say yes to Michael."

Dean's face curled up in disgust. His father had told him about the prophecy of the angels just before he died, and quite frankly, he considered it to be utter bullshit.

"Fuck you," said Dean.

"I'm a patient man Dean, I'll be waiting while you rot in this magnificent prison of yours," sang Zachariah as he went out the doors. "And you know how hunters do inside stone walls! Set one foot outside and you're mine!" he followed, cackling as the doors slammed shut behind him.

Dean cursed and ran to a side door, only to see a wall of guards forming around Notre Dame's square. He slammed the door shut, cursing more and sliding down to sit against the wall. Impala came over to sit by him and he scratched behind her ear.

"Don't worry girl, we'll get past those bastards somehow."

"Now don't you go causing more trouble than you can handle," said Robert. "You pissed him off something good at the festival."

Dean couldn't help but notice the archdeacon smiling as he said this.

"It wouldn't be smart to make that angel angry. He's a nasty one."

"You saw what he did!" said Dean, getting to his feet. "He tormented that poor kid."

"Ah yes," said Robert shaking his head. "That poor boy has been living inside for twenty years."

Dean perked up at this, but again pushed away his hope that it would be his long-lost brother. He gritted his teeth and began to walk alongside the clergyman.

"If one person would just stand up to them-argh! What do they got against us humans anyway?"

Robert sighed. "Who knows kid? You can't right all the wrongs of this world by yourself."

Dean snorted. "No one out there seems to want to."

"Well, maybe someone in here will," said Robert, a knowing look on his face before leaving Dean to himself and continuing to light new candles. Dean sighed dejectedly and busied himself by wandering around, inspecting every crevice of the church.

"God-blesses the outcasts my ass," he muttered, watching as a dozen or so people came in for confession. He was just about to find a pew to settle down on when a flash of movement caught his eye. A person, hiding in the eaves!

"Bell ringer!" cried one of the friars. "Haven't you caused enough trouble today?"

The figure stumbled back, knocking over a candelabra and ran down a narrow hallway.

"Wait!" cried Dean, running after him. It was that poor kid from the festival!

Maybe he could help.

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'Ohshitohshitohshit he'd done it now!' thought Samuel as he raced back up the stairs. Now that crazy hunter would be up in his haven and if Zachariah found out…Samuel shuddered as he ran towards the bells.

"Wait, I want to talk!" cried the hunter.

"Crap!" he swore, running faster. If he could beat the hunter, he could hide from him! As soon as he made it into the bell-tower, however, he was bombarded by the gargoyles.

"Hey, Sammy!" crowed Balthazar.

"Knew you could do it!" said Ellen.

"Now don't scare your friend off!" said Rufus. "He seems like a nice fellow, little crazy though."

"No, no!" said Samuel, trying to get away, only to be held back by Ellen.

"What's wrong Sam?"

"There you are! You're a fast son of a bitch, you know that?" said Dean, walking forward. Samuel spun around to face him, quickly thinking up an excuse.

"Yeah, well, I have chores and, uh, stuff-I have to go!" he said, running up the stairs to the next level.

"Hold on a minute, I just wanna talk! Calm down kid!" said Dean, running after him. Samuel cursed. This just wasn't his day, was it?

"Hey, I'm real sorry about earlier! Jo is a little soft in the…head."

Samuel had stopped in front of his model of Paris, pressing himself into the shadows. The dark, where no one could see his hideous scar and he was safe.

"Whoa, this is awesome!" said Dean, looking around at the glass dangling from the beams around the center table. "Did you make all of this?"

"Yeah, most of it," said Samuel edging out of the dark. If Dean noticed his scar, he didn't say anything.

"Wow, if I could do this, I would have to beat the crap out of people all the time."

Samuel laughed. Maybe the hunters weren't as bad as Zachariah made them out to be.

"I think it's pretty awesome how you beat those guards up."

"Nah, that was nothin'. You should have seen my father. Now that man could fight."

"Really? I never knew my parents. Zachariah said my mother abandoned me here, in the snow almost twenty years ago."

Something flashed across Dean's face, something almost like hope, but it was gone in a second and it left the hunter looking dejected. Samuel didn't like that look.

"Hey, want to see something amazing?"

Dean looked up and Samuel motioned for him to follow him up the stairs until they reached the top of the tower and they could look out on the entire city.

"Wow that is pretty amazing."

"It's a lot nicer up here," said Samuel quietly, remembering the cruelty he had experienced earlier that day.

"Yeah, but boring. I couldn't stay up here. I have too much to do, gotta keep the family business going."

"But Zachariah's got it out for you! You're safer inside the church!"

"Not free though," said Dean. "My mom died trying to escape Zachariah. So did my little brother."

"I'm sorry," said Samuel. "When?"

"I don't know, I've lost count. He'd be about your age though, probably as tall as dad. Damn that kid was big for a baby."

Samuel suddenly felt something tugging at his memory. He was about six or seven, before he had earned his scar, and he had asked the judge about his family.

"_Your mother was a selfish, cruel woman who abandoned you in the snow! She probably died from her sin, now stop asking!"_

"What was his name?"

"Sammy," whispered Dean. He then looked over at him. "I'm sorry, I'm Dean, I didn't mean to be such a sourpuss. What's your name?"

"You're going to find this funny. I'm Samuel."

Dean's eyes widened. "You're joking."

"No. That's the name Bobby, the archdeacon, gave me. He said that's what the blanket I was in said on it."

"This blanket, do you still have it?"

"Yeah, it's downstairs."

"Show me."

Samuel led Dean down, despite his wondering if the man was crazy. What the hell could an old blanket have to do with the hunter? He went over to where he usually slept and reached up to the highest shelf and pulled down a soft, careworn baby blanket. It was beautifully sewn with stitched scenes depicting everything from the bible to bedtime stories. Most beautiful of all, however, was his name meticulously embroidered across the top in elegant gothic script. Samuel came out of his bedroom and handed it to Dean.

The hunter took it from him gently, running his hand reverently over the blanket. "I remember. I watched my mother sew this while she was pregnant. The first time I saw my brother, he was wrapped in this…"

Dean looked up and Samuel, studying his face. Then he walked over and put hand on his cheek, a thumb gently running over the scar.

"Sammy?"

Samuel laughed. "No, no. My mother abandoned me. I don't have a brother. You must be confused."

If he wasn't, if Dean was right, then he had been a prisoner when he could have been free.

"No, I couldn't see it because of your scar before. You look just like father. Sammy…"

And Samuel believed him. He really did, because Dean was holding his blanket, the only thing he had from his past, so gently that it could only have been made by one of his family.

"Dean I-"

Suddenly he heard voices coming up the stairs, no doubt the friars coming to spy and report to Zachariah. Samuel turned to Dean, panic on his face.

"You have to go!"

"What? I'm not leaving you here!"

Samuel didn't reply, simply grabbed his brother by the arm and pulled him back up to the balcony. "Alright, get on my back."

"What, are you crazy? You can't carry me and Impala!"

"I ring bells that weigh more than a carriage for a living, you're fine!" said Samuel, swinging the hunter and the goat onto his back and leaping over the side.

Suffice to say, the first real memory he had with his brother was one of him screaming like a little girl. Dean only did it once before hushing himself as they crept down the sides of the cathedral. That was, until they landed on the monastery room, where a tile gave way and they slid down the side. It was safe to say that Samuel screamed too as they hurtled towards the edge.

"HOLY SHIIIIIIT!" screamed Dean as they flew off the roof and onto a stone gutter, which they rode like a water slide from hell until Samuel stopped them using an arch and the metal tile flew off the gargoyle spout and crashed into the alley. Thankfully, something fruitful came from their experience and the guards were distracted.

"Hang on," said Samuel, standing up and continuing the climb down until they came to an empty alcove to rest in.

"You are the craziest man I've ever met."

They waited until the guards were past and Dean turned to Samuel. "Hey, I'm coming back for you, okay?"

Samuel shook his head. "I'll be fine Dean."

But Dean wasn't having it. He reached into his shirt and withdrew an amulet in the shape of a pagan god's head. He looked at it for a moment before reaching over and putting it around Samuel's neck.

"Show this if you ever come across one of us. They'll help you out, alright?"

"Alright."

Dean ruffled Samuel hair once before leaping off the alcove and running down the alley way with Impala at his heels.

He sighed, wondering why he hadn't taken his brother's offer, but didn't dwell on it as more guards approached. He began the long trek back to his lonely belltower.

He only hoped Dean reached home safely.

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Argh the tendonitis from typing!

Please review!


	5. Quatre

_Quatre_

Castiel had in fact, been the footsteps Samuel had mistaken for the friars. He arrived just after Samuel had swung down from the balcony and he wandered about for quite a few minutes until he heard someone climbing back up. He went over to the railing and reached down, helping the boy from earlier up.

"Hello, I'm looking for the hunter, Dean. Have you seen him?"

He was unprepared for how the boy reacted, swinging his fist and knocking Castiel back towards the door.

"No soldiers!" he cried, grabbing a torch off the wall and swinging it at him.

"No, no!" cried Castiel, backing down the stairs. Perhaps he had been too personal by helping him up and over the railing.

"You have no place here! This is a sanctuary!"

"Wait!"

"Get out!"

"All I need is-"

"Go!"

"I mean no harm-"

"ARRGH! GO!" roared the boy, swinging his torch again. Castiel turned away from the light and backed away faster. Then he had had enough of running away, whipped out his sword and swung it, catching the boy's torch against the wall.

"Look, I mean no harm. I just wanted to speak with Dean. Will you tell him I didn't mean to trap him here? It was the only way to save his life. Will you tell him that?"

The boy narrowed his eyes.

"Will you?"

"Only if you go."

Castiel glared. "Fine, I'll go."

The boy let go of his collar and pushed him away. Castiel sheathed his sword and began his descent. But he paused and turned back.

"Oh, and tell Dean that he's very lucky."

"For what?"

"That someone would defend him so fiercely."

The boy raised his eyebrow in surprise and Castiel smiled as he continued down the staircase.

Now if only he could tell Dean himself.

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While Sam returned to his sanctuary, Zachariah was fuming in his own quarters in the Palace of Justice. That blasted hunter! Those damn Winchesters had been nothing but a pain in his ass for years! Years! All he wanted was for the prophecy to be fulfilled so he could go home.

"Guards!"

"Yes my lord?"

"Go tell the kitchen to send up some spirits."

"Yessir!"

Zachariah sighed and slumped down into his chair, staring into the enormous fireplace that his rooms boasted. In it he could see the faces of other angels, laughing at his failure to collect Dean Winchester. He could see the hunter, waving his knife at him, as if he weren't just a mud monkey. If only he knew the full extent of what he was dealing with.

"They'll burn, they'll all burn," he muttered as a servant brought in a bottle of wine. He forwent a goblet and simply uncorked the bottle and drank. Perhaps he would save their food and drink. He had grown rather fond of their 'alcohol'.

"My God have mercy on your soul," he told the taunting figures in the fireplace. "Hell, may God have mercy on me."

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The next morning, Castiel was waiting as Zachariah's carriage rolled up to the garrison of guards out today. The judge looked more than ragged as he stepped out and Castiel found this amusing.

"Morning sir. Are you, feeling alright?"

"Ugh, I had a little trouble with the fireplace last night."

Behind him some of the other angels cracked a smile, Castiel did not. He knew what Zachariah was after and he knew what he would do to get it.

"Your orders…sir?"

"Find Dean Winchester."

What followed were actions Castiel would hate himself for doing. They tore apart the city, uprooting everything they could, all for a single angel's hysteria over a job promotion.

Seven hunters under the trapdoor of the baker.

"Ten pieces of silver for the hunter Dean Winchester," Zachariah offered. None took it.

Seven more, their possessions and home pushed into the river.

"Twenty pieces of silver!" They refused.

They were all imprisoned and Castiel watched, anger building inside of him. Emotions were fickle things, things angels were supposed to suppress. Zachariah hadn't, why should he?

Then came the farmer's family. Castiel's face was colored with shame as his soldiers intimidated the man by threatening his wife and young children, one only a babe in arms.

"We found this hunter's anti-possession charm on your property," growled Zachariah at the farmer. "Have you been harboring hunters?"

"Our home is always open to the weary traveler," said the man bravely. Ashmore was his name. "Don't threaten my family, we're innocent!"

"I'm keeping you and your family under house arrest until I reach the bottom of this. If it is true and you are innocent, then you have nothing to fear."

"But we _are _innocent!" said the man as Zachariah went outside and Castiel followed. The door was shut and barred from the outside.

"Burn it." Said Zachariah.

"What?" said Castiel.

"Until it's nothing but ashes. They're traitors, they deserve it."

"With all due respect, sir, and that's not much, I wasn't trained to murder the innocent," growled Castiel, his gaze sharp as he faced the elder angel.

"But you were made to follow orders," he hissed, handing Castiel the torch. Castiel stepped away, letting him think he had won, and then promptly dropped the torch into a rain barrel.

"Insolent brat," snarled Zachariah, taking a torch from another angel and, to Castiel's horror, tossed it onto the thatch room which caught fire instantaneously. The windmill soon followed and he had to dive out of the way of a falling beam.

Castiel was frozen for a moment, and then he heard a child's screams from inside. He leapt in through the window where Ashmore had his family gathered to him, his wife sobbing as she held their wailing children. Castiel grabbed the children and ran for the door.

"Come!" he shouted over the blaze, kicking the door open and running out. The couple followed, getting out just as the roof of their home collapsed. They all watched, transfixed in shock as the home burned, before the man and woman came for their children.

"Thank you," said the man, taking his daughter from Castiel while his wife grabbed their infant son. Castiel was about to reply when a blow to the back of his head sent him crashing to the ground. He was pulled up onto his knees to face Zachariah, mounted upon his infernal black horse.

"The punishment for disobedience is death, Castiel. Such a pity, you're a good soldier."

"Consider it my highest honor…sir," he bit out, spitting blood onto the ground. Just before the blade could come down on his neck, however, a rock struck the black horse's back and it reared, tossing Zachariah to the ground. Castiel used the opportunity to incapacitate the soldiers holding him down and to mount the massive horse.

He snapped the reigns, urging the foul beast on when he heard the angels take up their bows. That was never a good sign.

"Shoot him, and don't hit my horse!"

Of course, one struck him in the back and he could feel his grace flare in pain as the angelic weapon pierced his vessel's skin through his armor. The horse reared again and he was tossed off the bridge and into the rushing water below. He hit the water and sank, his armor weighing him down. He could feel the angelic poison coursing through his grace, poisoning it, turning him human. Using his last bit of strength, he managed to undo his armor.

And then everything went black.

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"Don't waste your arrows, let the traitor rot in his watery grave!"

Dean rushed down the side of the river bank, breathing hard from trying to catch up to the horse. His eyes searched frantically over the water's surface for any sign of Castiel.

"Find the hunter, even if you have to burn the city to the ground!"

When he saw none, he dove into the murky water and swam past the bridge. He came up for air and dove again, feeling around blindly for the angel. After another minute, his hands brushed something soft and he latched onto it, pulling it to the surface. It was Castiel's arm and his head lolled as Dean pulled the rest of him up.

"Don't you die on me you stupid bastard!" he muttered, swimming against the current and dragging him ashore.

He only hoped he wasn't too late.

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Short chapter!


	6. Cinq

_Cinq_

"Oh, this is awful!" said Ellen as they watched smoke rise over the now fire stained rooftops of Paris.

"We're fucked! Absolutely, royally fucked!" said Rufus, shaking his arms.

"You're telling me," said Balthazar. "I'm losing to a bloody bird!"

"This ain't the time to be playing poker you idiot. That poor hunter kid!" said Rufus. "I'm beginin to think that poor kid's dead."

"Hush!" said Ellen. "Now don't you go upsetting Sam! The poor thing, that's his brother they're burning down the city looking for!"

"Yes, yes, we'd best lighten up," agreed Balthazar.

"Shh! Here he comes!"

Samuel swung out of the shadows and came to stand by the gargoyles to watch the horrible scene unfold below.

"Any sign of Dean?"

Rufus couldn't take it. "It's a lost cause! He could be anywhere! We're doomed, all doomed! I need some whiskey!" he lamented, pulling on Samuel's shirt. Samuel patted his head.

"He's right, what're we gonna do?"

"I think Dean is capable of handling himself," said Balthazar.

"Why do you say that?" asked Rufus.

"He's Sam's brother for one, and he's not exactly an easy fight. Besides, anyone that can give Zachariah problems like that can't be a git."

"Yeah he-"

"Sammy?"

"Dean?"

Samuel ran over to the wooden stairway that led to the first entrance door and looked down to see Dean opening the door from the stone spiral staircase.

"Dean, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, but I need your help."

"Sure, anything."

Dean turned and motioned for someone to come forward. Samuel watched cautiously as a huge hunter lumbered in, an unconscious man slung over his shoulder. When Dean went over and helped to gently lay the man down, Samuel gasped.

"That's the captain of the guard!"

"Thank you Mr. Obvious! He's hurt and a fugitive now. He'll be safe here, won't he?"

"This way!" said Sam, motioning them towards his bedroom. They dragged him over to a spar pallet and laid him down.

"Dean," said the angel.

"Shut up. Don't waste your energy, you use too many big words, you'll just tire yourself out."

Dean pulled out a wineskin and Castiel raised an eyebrow. "I don't think drinking will-AUGH!"

The angel flinched when the hunter poured the alcohol over his wound.

"I thought wine was supposed to make you feel good."

"Don't be a pansy. You saved good people back there; maybe you're not like the other angels. By which I mean you're either really brave or really stupid."

Castiel looked over at Samuel. "Should I take that as a compliment?"

Samuel smiled and nodded. "I think that's the closest you're going to get."

He then fell back because his brother and the fallen angel were sharing a look that was obviously way too private for him to be looking at. Then, Dean amazed him by reaching out and brushing the angel's hair away from his face.

"Don't you die while I'm gone, you hear me?"

"If you insist," said Castiel, who then reached up and pulled Dean down into a kiss. Samuel roared with laughter at his brother's face, which turned beet red and he pushed the angel away.

"Why you-!"

"You owed me!"

"You owe me!"

But Dean's eyes were soft as he got up from beside the angel and turned to Samuel. They were interrupted by the sound of an arriving carriage.

"Zachariah's here, you have to go!" he cried, motioning for Dean and the other hunter to follow. "Go down the south tower steps."

The other hunter ran ahead, but Dean stopped and gave Samuel a look that he supposed was very big brother in style.

"Be safe you hear me? And watch out for Cas. That angel doesn't know common sense from his own stupidity."

"I will, now go Dean!"

His brother disappeared around the corner and Samuel ran back to where Castiel lay unconscious on the pallet.

"Dammit!" cursed Samuel. He hefted the angel, who was way heavier than he looked, onto his shoulders and shoved him under the table that held the miniature of Paris just before he heard Zachariah approach. He turned with a grin plastered on his face.

"Master, I wasn't expecting you!"

"Nonsense, I'm never too busy to eat with you Samuel."

He sat down and waited expectantly until Samuel caught his intention and set out the plates and cups. Then he dropped a grape that landed by Castiel's hand. He cursed, yet again.

"Watch your tongue boy!"

"Yes sir, sorry sir!"

He bent down and picked up the grape.

"You know what, I think you're hiding something from me."

Samuel nervously placed the grape back on the table. "Oh no, master, I would never."

Then Castiel groaned and Samuel had to act like the grape he was eating was the best grape in the world. And another moan and he kicked under the table, silencing the angle. Hopefully he didn't kill him.

"What's different in here?" asked Zachariah, standing and looking around suspiciously. Then his gaze fell upon the model of Paris, where a miniature of Dean sat playing his flute next to Joanna in her mesmerizing red dress. He picked up Dean.

"This one is new, isn't it? So uncanny in likeness to that hunter…I KNOW YOU HELPED HIM ESCAPE!" roared the angel, slamming his fists down upon the table.

"He's my brother!" said Samuel, glaring back.

"Yes, and now all of Paris is burning because of you! It doesn't matter if he's your brother or not! He's a hunter; they're all nasty little heathens! You idiot, they're not capable of real feelings. Think of your bitch of a mother!"

Samuel fell silent as Zachariah shook with rage for a few more moments before calming himself, but never taking his piercing eyes off of him.

"But what could a hideous little monster like you know of real compassion? No wonder you attached to his lies."

He stays quiet as the angel draws a blade and impales it upon Dean's wooden figurine. Then he lights it on fire.

"Not to worry. Soon it'll be all over."

"What do you mean?" spat Samuel, keeping his furious glare upon Zachariah.

"I know where their little hunter's hideout is. Tomorrow morning, I'll be at their gates with the army of heaven," he replied, his voice sharp with bitter contempt. He smiled as he walked down the stairs, Samuel's face a mask of horror as he left.

"Ugh."

He turned and saw Castiel crawl from beneath the table. "You had no need to kick so hard Sam."

"Sorry."

"Never mind. We must find this Court of Miracles before daybreak. If Zachariah gets there first, we're doomed."

"How are we supposed to get there?"

"He gave you an amulet, did he not?"

"Yes."

"Then we'll follow that."

Samuel raised an eyebrow. "How?"

"It glows hot in the presence of God. No doubt God will side with your people Samuel."

The angel was ragged looking, his left arm hanging limp at his side, but there was fierceness in his bright blue eyes. Samuel smiled.

"Come now, I won't allow Zachariah to massacre innocent people."

Ellen crept out of the shadows to hand him a cloak.

"Let's go."

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Castiel limped down the stairs, muttering darkly that Samuel, who was taking the much faster way down the sides of the church, could have brought him down too. Dean's face was sharp in his mind however, and he couldn't erase the desperate fear he had seen there, so he dragged himself through the church and out a side door.

"Castiel!"

Castiel clutched at his chest when Samuel's upside down face appeared in the doorway and he swung down to the ground.

"A simple hello would have sufficed."

"Yeah, whatever. Look, I don't know how this amulet is supposed to work. They could be anywhere!"

"Samuel, it will pull you in the right direction, have faith."

"Faith? Faith? I've lived in a church for twenty years and I'm not any closer to having faith that God will help me than I was when my mother died!"

Castiel was quiet, but he looked up at him with dismay. "Dean needs our help, Sam. You're going to have to trust me."

"Fine."

They then took off down the alleyway, one running cautiously, the other half-running, half-skipping as he tried to keep his motion from jarring his wound. And they ran some more.

And ran some more.

Until they came to a cemetery with the same symbol as Dean's amulet carved in the stone wall around it. After much cursing and stumbling around, they also found the doorway of a mausoleum that had the symbol as well. Samuel blanched when he opened the door and found a tunnel leading underground. He had spent his whole life high in the sky…underground he would feel trapped.

"Be brave Sam," said Castiel, leading the way with a torch they had acquired earlier. Samuel rolled his eyes and followed the angel into the dark, dank underground.

And promptly almost threw up when he saw the skulls that held the place up.

"Ah, the catacombs. Very clever," said Castiel, looking around.

"It's disgusting."

They trudged through the murky, foul muck keeping an eye open for any hunters. Most likely, they wouldn't be welcome guests.

At least, that was until the skeletons came alive and jumped them.

Five minutes later, they were tied up and presented to the entertainer, Gabriel, that had tormented Samuel at the festivel.

"You!" said Samuel. Gabriel smirked.

"Hello Sammy."

"Gabriel, why am I not surprised," asked Castiel, sighing. "I should have known you'd fall in with the hunters."

"Hey baby bro, long time no see. Heard you got a little romance going with Dean. Nice."

"Well then, you know why we're here! Let us go!" said Samuel.

"Nuh uh, you think I'm stupid. Just because you guys don't seem bad doesn't mean we'll trust you."

"Great."

This, of course, mean they would be paraded in front of the entire hunter community and Castiel looked on in disbelief as they were marched up to a gallows platform.

"Gabriel, what are you doing?"

"Relax little brother. I'm not in charge here. We're a democracy, something you wouldn't know about. Gather around everybody, there's good noose tonight!" he announced. This was followed by a hearty crowd chuckle as an entire city of hunters came forward.

"We've got a double header tonight! Zachariah's captain of the guard and his servant boy!"

There was a collective boo. Castiel and Samuel looked at each other and their eyes clearly said: What the hell have you gotten me into?

"That sounds like a no on the living part. Any last words?"

Nothing but muffled garble as they had been gagged before being dragged on stage.

"Oh, that's what they all say. And the best part? You're perfectly innocent, which is the worst crime of all. So you're going to hang!"

The ex-angel reached for the lever and began to pull.

"STOP!"

Gabriel froze as Dean came forward, a huge frown on his face. "Dammit Gabe, you know exactly who they are!"

He leapt up on stage and began untying Castiel and Samuel. "Listen everybody, over here is my brother! Yes, that one! He's alive, now all of you smile and say hello to Sammy."

"Hello Sammy."

"And this is Cas. He can't tell his head from his ass most of the time, but he saved Ash and his family-"

"He sure did!"

"And almost died because of it."

"We also know you want to get in his trousers!"

"Shut up Jo!"

Castiel smiled softly at Dean, who had finished untying his brother and was working on him. The hunter smiled back. "Took you long enough."

"We were delayed, sorry."

"Why are you here?"

Castiel stepped forward to the edge of the platform. "Listen! Zachariah knows of this place and he'll be here at dawn with the host heaven! You need to leave immediately!"

This caused the hunters to move into emergency mode, which when pressured, they were quite well at handling. Immediately tents began to come down and caravans were packed up as they scurried about. Also, weapons were brought out of storage and children swept up out of harm's way. Turning back to Dean, who smiled at them both, they climbed down off the platform, where Dean pulled them both in for a hug.

"Man it's good to see you guys. Sammy," said Dean, ruffling his brother's hair. "I'm so proud of you."

"I helped too," said Castiel. Dean frowned.

"I'm trying to have an emotional moment. And yes, I realize that you probably helped Sammy and he could have found the place without you but-"

"And neither would I!"

Everyone turned in horror as Zachariah appeared, surrounded by dozens of seriously pissed-off looking angels. Everyone drew their weapons, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. A circle of guards formed around Dean, Samuel and Castiel and the angel pushed Dean behind him, who in turn pushed his brother behind him.

"After twenty years, mostly because of your damn father," said Zachariah to Dean, "You're little hidey-hole is mine. And so are you, Sword of Michael."

"I won't say yes."

"Oh yes you will, won't he Samuel?" said Zachariah, turning to the boy he had held captive for all those years. "Because he'll save his dear widdle bwother. The brother who finally proved he was useful."

"You're a liar!" spat Dean. Zachariah smiled at him and turned to Castiel.

"Oh and look, little fallen angel back from the dead. I'm sure we can fix that. Maybe you and the hunter can share a pyre."

Castiel snarled at the judge, who laughed. "There'll be a bonfire in the square tomorrow morning, you're all invited!"

Everyone fell silent at this news, even Gabriel who had been spitting insults nonstop since he was captured.

"Master Please!" begged Samuel, who the guards hadn't bother to restrain. Zachariah just gave him a look and turned to the guards.

"Lock the others up. And take him to the bell tower. Make sure he stays there."

And when he left, so did everyone's hope of being saved.

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Whew, almost there!


	7. Six

_Six_

Dean was led onto a platform where a pole surrounded by kindling stood. He would not show fear. He was not afraid to die in order to oppose a tyrant.

He was afraid to die and leave Sam and Cas at his mercy.

He looked over at the angel who stared back at him from the cage he was being kept in. He was snarling in a frighteningly feral way, struggling against the manacles that bound him inside. But he looked up and their eyes met and his heart wrenched in his chest when he saw the sorrow in Castiel's eyes.

"This hunter has been found guilty of witchcraft!" roared Zachariah. As if the official paper he was holding in front of him could distract everyone from how full of shit he was.

Dean didn't struggle very hard against the men tying him to the post. It would only hurt Sam and Cas more if he fought.

"The sentence: Death!"

The crowd roared, but not in excitement. They furiously pushed against the guards blocking them from the platform Dean was standing upon. They grew louder as more wood was piled on around his feet. He looked over at the executioner and was rewarded with a wide grin. I could only be Alistair, Zachariah's favored torturer.

He looked over at the other mobile cages where the rest of the hunter community sat, watching with horrified gazes as torches were brought over. Castiel struggled again, pulling desperately against the iron bars of his prison, but to no avail. He was fallen, his angel mojo was gone. Suddenly, a door to Notre Dame opened and the Archdeacon stepped out.

"Bobby!"

He began storming out, but was blocked by two guards wielding pikestaffs. Zachariah turned and took the torch from Alistair.

"The time has come, Dean, you stand on the edge of Hell," he said, and then leaned closer. Dean leaned away, wrinkling his nose. "But it's not too late. You could still save yourself. Say yes to Michael."

Dean opened his mouth…and promptly spat in his face. "Go to Hell you Sanctimonious bastard!"

The crowd laughed as Zachariah drew back, his face red with rage. He then turned out to the crowd and raised his torch.

"The hunter Dean has refused to recant! He will burn!"

Dean shut his eyes.

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High above the plaza, Samuel had been chained to the stone pillars of Notre Dame, Dean's execution pyre in sight. He was sagging against the chains, utterly exhausted from fighting them and discouraged at the hopelessness of his situation.

"C'mon Sammy, snap out of it!" said Balthazar, using his stone claws to pull at the chains but to no avail. The other were trying, but they had not better luck than he.

"Your brother is down there!" protested Rufus.

"It's all my fault," sighed Samuel.

"You've got to break these chains!" cried Ellen.

"I can't. I tried, what difference would it make?"

"You can't let that sonofabitch Zachariah win!" said Rufus.

"You're giving up?" says Balthazar, serious for once.

"These chains aren't what's holding you back!" scolded Ellen, in her odd motherly way of knowing what truly lied in Samuel's heart.

"Leave. Me. Alone."

The nasty tone of bitterness in his voice made the gargoyles draw back and Balthazar's shoulders slumped as he walked away.

"Okay, okay Sam, we'll leave you alone."

"After all, we're only made of stone," said Rufus.

"We just thought that maybe you were made of something stronger," said Ellen.

"For Justice! For Paris! And for his own Salvation-"

Samuel's head shot up, anger morphing his face. He pulled himself over to the edge of the balcony he was chained to and looked down upon Zachariah.

"It is my solemn duty to send this demon back from whence he came!"

And he thrust the torch down at the kindling surrounding Dean and Samuel watched his brother death rise into the air in the form of unforgiving flames.

"NOOOO! DEAN!" he roared, pulling against the chains, shaking chips of granite free.

_You'll simply never be more than an ugly monster Samuel._

"Well," he muttered to himself, as the foundations shook, the bells chiming in tune each time he pulled against his restraints. "Then I'd better act like one."

He looked down and saw Dean struggling to breathe, black smoke rising in the air as his head lolled on his shoulders. Samuel pulled harder, enormous muscles from a lifetime of ringing bells that weighed thousands of pounds flexing as the links in the chain slowly pulled apart. He saw Dean's head loll one last time before he was still.

And suddenly, he was free, panting hard and rage pumping through his veins.

He lunged forward, scooping rope off the ground and looping it around a water spout. He then held the other end tightly and leapt over the edge, falling through the air like the baby bird before soaring upwards again as the rope grew taut. He landed against the side of the cathedral before running and taking off again, swinging above the crowd and around in huge arc before landing solidly on the platform.

"Abomination! How dare you?" roared Zachariah. Samuel ignored him, grabbing Dean and breaking the rope keeping him tied against the wooden pole. His brother slumped against him, dead weight. Angels attempted to clamber onto the pier, but he effortlessly grabbed the burning pole and swung it at them, knocking them to the ground. He then grabbed his rope again and swung back over to the wall of Notre Dame.

"SAMUEL!" roared Zachariah, shaking his fist. He was ignored as Samuel expertly climbed the tower before standing upon the top, and in front of the glorious stained glass window he proudly proclaimed the words his mother had shouted so long ago at the church's doors.

"SANTUARY!"

The crowd roared.

"SANCTUARY! SANTUARY!"

Satisfied that the crowd was now riled up, he pulled Dean inside and laid him down in the spare closest on the extra pallet.

"You should be safe here," he said, before running out to man the defenses. Any great building, even a cathedral, had defenses against attack. In fact, Samuel flipped an enormous beam over the side, smashing Zachariah's carriage.

He looked down and saw the judge order his men to barrage the door and much more excitedly, watched as Castiel set himself free from his cage by strangling his guard. He then swung on top of his cage, brandishing a spear.

"Citizens of Paris! Zachariah has persecuted our people! Ransacked _our _city! Now he has declared war on our beloved Notre Dame herself! Will we allow it?"

"NO!" was the unanimous cry as the citizens surged forward to attack the guards with every manor of tools.

It was total, unadulterated anarchy. The rest of the hunters were set free and set about slaying the guards without hesitation. Castiel, in particular, was magnificent. He twirled the spear, clearly proficient in all manner of weapons, taking down guard after guard as he fought towards Zachariah, Notre Dame and most importantly, Dean.

"Anna, sit!"

And the beautiful roan horse sat, taking three more soldiers with her.

Samuel turned to Ellen, who was commanding the pigeons to lay siege upon the soldiers while Balthazar and Rufus continued to help heat the molten metal. They could hear the beam Samuel had thrown earlier being used as a battering ram against the enormous doors down below. Just as they broke through, he hooked the enormous pot of liquid iron to a pulley and yanked hard on it, sending a hellish waterfall over the sides of the church. Screams echoed below as the soldiers were incinerated instantly.

"ZACHARIAH, HAVE YOU GONE MAD?" Bobby thundered as the angel ran across the inside of the church towards the stairs. "I will not tolerate this assault on the house of God!"

"Out of my way you old fool!" he snarled, pushing Bobby away and sprinting up the stairs, brandishing a glowing angelic blade. "That hunter and I have unfinished business! And this time you will not interfere."

He locked the first door behind him and ran up the second flight where Sam was running into where his brother lay.

"We did it Dean we-"

But Dean hadn't moved. He was laying perfectly still, his face frighteningly pale.

"Dean? Dean, wake up! It's safe now!" said Samuel, running over to put a hand on his brother's arm. He shook it softly. "Dean?"

His brother didn't move, his chest barely rising. To Samuel, he looked dead.

"No. No, no, no. Dean!"

He looked around frantically and his eyes fell on a bucket of water he had laid out last night for Castiel. He ran over and used the ladle to take some out and carry it over to Dean. He could only be dehydrated, right? His big brother couldn't be dead! Samuel tried giving him water, but it dribbled uselessly down the sides of his face.

"Oh no," whispered Samuel, trying to lift Dean up. His brother sagged limply against him, head lolling. He wrapped his long, ridiculously long, arms around him, hugging him to his chest.

"No, no please. You were gonna take me with you Dean. You and Castiel, and you were gonna tell me about Dad and Mom and how to save people and-and-Goddammit Dean! You fucking promised!"

Samuel began to sob. He hadn't sobbed in years, not since Zachariah had beaten him once for crying on a new tunic. In fact, he sobbed so hard he didn't notice the door open and a hand resting on his shoulder. It was Zachariah.

Samuel spun, snarling. "You killed him!"

"It was my duty, horrible as it was. I hope you'll forgive me," said the judge, his voice mockingly sincere. Samuel turned away, laying Dean gently down on the floor. "Now the time has come to end your suffering…permanently!"

Samuel glanced up and saw the shadow of Zachariah, raising his blade. He gasped turning and grabbing the angel's wrist. This move of defiance, after spending so long being obedient, unbalanced the angel and Samuel was able to wrestle the blade out of his hands. Zachariah backed up as Samuel approached him, brandishing the blade with a look of absolute fury upon his face.

"Now Samuel, listen to me-"

"No! You listen to me you bastard! All my life you've told me that this world is a dark and cruel place! The only thing dark and cruel I see is you!" snarled Samuel, the hellish light from outside throwing the hideous scar across his face into sharp relief, which in turn made him look quite mad.

"Sammy?"

Samuel stopped and turned, watching as Dean tried to sit up. "Dean!"

He ran over and put an arm under his brother's shoulder, helping him stand up.

"He lives!" yelped Zachariah, unsheathing another blade.

"No!" said Samuel, heaving his brother along as they stumbled outside of the room and onto the balcony outside. Zachariah ran after them, his black robes fluttering like sinister crow's wings. Before he could reach the balcony, however, Samuel slung his brother onto his back and dove over the railing, catching himself on a gargoyle head.

"Dean, hang on," he muttered after hearing the hunter groan.

"Mkay…Sammy," his brother murmured, his eyelids fluttering. His arms remained firmly in place around Samuel's neck despite this.

"Ahah!"

This snapped Dean out of his haze and they both looked up in horror as Zachariah leaned over the railing, brandishing his sword.

"Leaving so soon boys?" he crowed, swinging his blade down.

"Hang on!" cried Samuel, swing over to the next gargoyle as Zachariah slashed and hacked at them.

"Holy shit!" shouted Dean as they swung not one, two, but three times and each time the gargoyle behind broke. Samuel scrambled over until Dean was able to clamber up onto it and he turned to help Samuel up, but was shoved away by the younger man as Zachariah came over, his face wicked as he approached.

"I should have known you'd risk your life for your brother, just like your whore of a mother did for you! Fucking Winchesters and their damned family complex!" he snapped.

"What?" said Samuel. "You told me-"

"I lied you idiot! Now I can do what I should have done twenty years ago!" said the angel, his voice vicious with hate. He grabbed his robe and flung it out catching Samuel's head with it and flinging him off the pedestal he was on and down to the next level of gargoyle heads.

Luckily Samuel was a goddamn Winchester and he took the angel down with him. He smirked, looking down at the angel who dangled, quite literally, by a thread.

"Where's your wings now you bastard?"

"Sammy!"

Dean appeared over the railing and reached down, clasping Samuel's wrist with his hands and pulling up. Samuel groaned as Zachariah swung on his robe towards another gargoyle, wrenching Samuel's shoulder out of its socket. He gasped, nearly passing out from the pain as Dean struggled to pull him up.

"Open your eyes Sammy! Stay with me now!" he brother cried. But he turned and his eyes widened as he saw the angel stand and lift his sword over his head as he cackled.

"And he shall smite the wicked and plunge them into the fiery pit!"

But apparently God really doesn't like assholes and the gargoyle chooses that moment to crack. Zachariah lost his balance, and his sword, but managed to hang onto the gargoyle. Dean would never forget the next moment as the face of the gargoyle curled up in a snarl, glowing with power, and broke, sending the now fallen angel plunging to his death.

"C'mon Sam!" cried Dean, pulling on his brother's now unconscious weight. Then he slipped.

"NOOOO!"

Samuel fell, only to be caught by a wonderfully familiar pair of arms a few stories below. Dean leaned over and saw Castiel smile at him before pulling Samuel inside. He then spun and thundered down two flights of stairs only to find Samuel safe and sound, giving Castiel a hug of all things while the ex-angel patted him awkwardly on the back.

Dean let out a sigh of relief before Samuel ran over and crushed him against his chest, lifting him clear off the ground.

"Oof! Okay moose…can't breathe!"

"Oops, sorry," said Samuel, smiling and setting his big brother down. Dean smiled and ruffled his hair. Then he looked over at Castiel, who smiled back. Samuel snorted and pushed them together.

"Jeez, get a room already," he said, laughing.

"Well, if you insist," said Castiel, pulling Dean in and proceeding to kiss him in quite an un-chaste way.

"I said get a room!"

They all laughed.

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Castiel couldn't believe it as he led Dean outside Notre Dame, hand in hand, to stand triumphantly before the citizens of Paris. Two months ago he had been an angel of the Lord. Now he was human, and holding the hand of the famed Dean Winchester no less.

But the crowd went wild at the sight of them, cheering and screaming out praises and bursting into song.

Free Will really was a beautiful thing.

But Dean squeezed his hand once before they shared look and the hunter went back to the door of the church and reached inside, a warm smile on his face. A moment later another larger, albeit younger, reached out and took it. Dean stepped back and led his baby brother outside, a huge smile on his face.

The crowd fell silent as Samuel's towering frame was revealed to them, horrific white scar slashed across his otherwise handsome features. Castiel watched them closely, ready to spring to his defense should they react badly.

Samuel stood up, shielding his eyes, so accustomed to the gloomy interior of the church, from the sun and stared at the crowd. They stared back, some with shock, others with awe, and many with suspicion. But a little girl, no older than seven or eight, with soft blonde hair slowly walked up the steps to look up at him. Dean came to stand by Castiel, gripping his sleeve with distress.

But the little girl simply beckoned down and Samuel knelt, letting her run a hand over his face. He leaned into her gentle touch, smiling when she gasped after feeling the smooth, but knotted scar that ran from his left temple, across his nose, slashed his mouth and ended at the edge of the right side of his chin.

Then she let out a soft cry of joy and hugged him. The she excitedly took his hand and led him towards the crowd. Samuel turned back to look expectantly at Dean and his brother urged him away.

"Go on you chicken, they're not gonna hurt you!"

"Three cheers for Samuel!" cried Gabriel from where he was perched atop a pole and watching the festivities with interest. Samuel was led away by a group of people, eagerly praising him and laying their hands upon him with shouts of thanks and joy.

And maybe, just maybe, they would head down to the local tavern to wash away the sense of "What in all the seven hells just happened?"

Castiel thought that it was becoming more of a promise by the very second.

_**La Fin**_


	8. Epilogue

_É__pilogue_

_Three Months Later_

As they rode along in a brand new solid black caravan (Dean's pride and joy), Samuel, now just Sam, watched from the roof as the rolling French countryside went by.

"Sammy, you okay up there?" called Dean from the driver's seat.

"Yep! You could go a little faster though, I can't feel the breeze!"

It was the end of October, Samhain was tomorrow, and it was absolutely freezing at the moment.

"That would be a Hell No Sam!" called Castiel from inside the caravan, where he no doubt was buried in blankets with Impala perched on his lap for any scrap of warmth he could find. Anna, from her harness where she pulled the caravan, snorted in agreement.

"Sorry Sammy-boy, it's not happening!"

Sam smiled and pulled his cloak closer as the crisp autumn wind blew around him. Dean was entirely besotted with Castiel, and usually what the ex-angel wanted, he gave him. But it made Dean so happy and when Dean was happy, Sam was happy. The hunters had graciously accepted him into their circles and he had even started seeing a beautiful blonde haired huntress named Jess. In fact, their caravan was in front of his and she too was sitting on her roof, waving at him. He waved back, blushing when she blew a kiss his way.

"Jesus Sam, will you just marry her already?" said Dean from down below. In response to the cat calls and whistles from behind their wagon, Sam slid down to sit beside Dean on the driving bench, his cheeks flushed red from both the cold and embarrassment.

"Here," said Dean, handing him the reins. "Cas is still sick, I'm gonna go check on him."

"Ah huh, _sick_" said Sam, rolling his eyes. Dean smacked the back of his head and climbed inside.

"Hey babe, you doin' okay?"

"Dean it's a cold, I'm not pregnant."

"Well then, I guess I lost money!" said Sam. "You've been awfully moody lately!"

"Bitch!" cried Dean, throwing an old shoe at him.

"Jerk!" said Sam, laughing. But he could hear his brother and Cas already kissing and he reached behind him and shut the door. "Jeez, get a room!"

A muffled "Fuck you!" was heard a moment later, but Sam, thankfully, didn't hear much else besides the occasionally thud. Poor, poor Impala. That goat had probably scrambled out of the back flap in the rear door as fast as possible.

But despite the noise of his brother and his lover, the constant motion of the caravan and the usual lack of money, Sam would never complain. Here he was loved, not only by his brother but by Jess and Cas. Someone had yet to say a cruel thing to him and here he could actually choose what he wanted to do.

And he was he was free, free to go where he pleased.


End file.
